all my possessions…

an old combination to a New York City locker was found in my bookbag…30 to the right…34 turn left…then swing back to the right to hit 11…protected all my possessions…

toothbrush…check…
toothpaste…check…
Speedstick…check…
Moby Dick…check…
couple of wash cloths…check…
some tee-shirts…check…
notebook and pens…check…
On The Road by Kerouac…check…
phone charger…check…
Tropic Of Cancer…always carry Miller…check…
pictures of you…check…

days spent wandering ’round the city…walking 10 miles a day…riding the subway and studying the guy next to you…the business woman in glasses…homeless people begging…kids selling candy…card tricks…a black man rappin’ ’bout this town gettin’ him down…and Midwestern tourists looking-on with fear and wonderment…

it was nights spent in metal chairs…boys hustlin’ in hotel rooms by Times Square…needles strewn along sidewalks in Union…$7 for a pint of beer…smokes goin’ for $12 a pack…and the sweet smell of pot on corners throughout Washington Heights…

was $ slices…cherry pie at a diner with a cup of joe…selling food stamps for 40%. to an Arab in the Bronx…making ends meet…

and lines…lines…lines…endless lines all the time…lines for social security…lines for tb tests…lines for lunch at the drop-in centers and churches…lines for tour buses…lines for the latest Jordan’s…lines leading back to you in a dreary small town…a dreary small town…

an old combination to a New york City locker was found in my book bag…30 to the right…34 turn left…then swing back to the right to hit 11…protected all my possessions…

all my possessions…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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